


If the Fates Allow

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Christmas, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-07
Updated: 2000-01-07
Packaged: 2018-11-11 00:39:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11137797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Kowalski. Fraser. Christmas.





	If the Fates Allow

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
             
    
    Disclaimer: Alliance owns everyone here, except for the priest. Not making
    any money, blah, blah, blah.  I'm just playing with them. 
    
    Didn't have it proof read , so all mistakes are my own.  It's a late
    Christmas story that's been sitting around on my computer collecting
    dust. 
    
    PG-13 for violence, h/c
    
    Please give this story a chance. It has a happy ending. I promise. 
    
    If the Fates Allow
    By
    Rae
    *********************
    
    Christmas Eve:
    
    It all happened in the space of 4 and 1/2 seconds, but it seemed like
    a full lifetime.  Ben had gone over that number so many times in his
    head. So many times.  4 and 1/2 seconds was enough time to change the
    outcome. He had been slow in reacting. Slow. Too slow.  He heard Lieutenant
    Welsh somewhere in this dimly lighted room telling him that it wasn't
    his fault.  It all happened too fast. There was nothing anyone could
    have done.  But that wasn't true. 4 and 1/2  seconds was enough time
    to change a life. 
    
    
    
    
    
    "I'll just be a second.", Ray Kowalski said as he shut the door of his
    beloved GTO. "Sit here. Don't move." Constable Benton Fraser glanced
    over his partner's shoulder at the large building that housed the Trenton
    Architectural Firm. "You're sure you don't want me to go in with you?"
    Ray frowned, leaning in through the open window. "Look, no offense, Frase,
    but last time you decided to have a chit-chat with a mobster, you ended
    up getting your ass kicked. Let me handle these guys." "How can you be
    sure that they are mobsters, Ray?", he asked reasonably. "'Cause this
    is Chicago, this is  the big city. Everybody knows what they are and
    what they're doing, but no one can make a case against them." "Except
    for you?", the Mountie asked with a mildly condescending tone. Kowalski,
    whether he did not catch it or simply chose to ignore it, grinned and
    replid, "Exactly." He straightened and pulled his jacket tighter around
    his slender form. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Stay out of trouble."
    He lowered his head to look his partner in the eye. "I mean it." Ben
    smiled. "Understood." 
    
    
    
     
     The Mountie sighed and looked at his watch. 9:31AM. He glanced back
    up to see Ray waiting at the crosswalk.  When the detective had picked
    him up from the Consulate, the detective had asked if he would mind swinging
    by the Trenton Building. Ben had said that he did not mind. That was
    not entirely true. He *did* mind.  Why today? There was a feeling within
    him. Something just....like butterflies in his stomach.  A nervous, edgy
    feeling of foreboding. Why today? Ray was the one who had said he wanted
    a peaceful Christmas this year. Not like last year where he had gone
    out of his mind thinking about how close he had come to loosing Fraser.
    'Not like last year. This year, it will be just us. Partners.'  Ben smiled
    at the thought. Ray always had a way of making him feel....wanted. And
    loved.  He loved his partner, too, but neither one could ever vocalize
    that affection.  There really was no need.  There are some things that
    don't need to be said. They were simply known. Fraser mused over this
    and unconsciously glanced at his watch again. 9:32AM.  He had lost his
    train of thought. It annoyed him, just alittle, that after Ray had nagged
    him so about having a peaceful Christmas that his partner would want
    to stop here and talk with 'mobsters'. He sighed deeply and looked up
    in time to see Ray open the door and disappear inside the Trenton building.
    /9hours 32min. and 12 seconds./  Ben  ran his fingers through his sable
    locks. /9 hours 32min. and 13seconds/  The feeling was worse now, making
    him almost nauseous. /9hours 32min and 14seconds /  He slumped in his
    seat, grimacing. / 9hours 32min and 15sec/  The explosion set off an
    aftershock that shattered the windows of the GTO and every car and office
    near it. Fraser was pitched forward, his forehead striking the dashboard.
    A sharp pain shot through his head as he struggled to remain conscious.
    Across the street, flames rose skyward from Trenton building. "Ray...",
    he murmured before falling into the dark.
    
    
    
    
    
     The building had been leveled, completely destroyed by the explosion.
    There were few survivors, most of whom would not survive a week.  Harding
    Welsh looked at the young man who sat across from him. The Mountie took
    small, even sips from the mug he held in his trembling hands. He was
    far away, eyes wide, focused on something that only he could see. The
    older man sighed, licking his lips nervously as he tried to think of
    something to say. The silence, especially from Fraser, was unnerving.
    "Ben." There was no change in the other man's expression, no hint that
    he had heard. "Ben." Still nothing.
    "Ben!" Slowly, Fraser looked up.
    "Sir?", he whispered. Welsh sighed again.
    "Ben....would you, uh, would you care to talk?" For a moment the younger
    man didn't answer and then, as if drawn from a trance, he shook his head.
    "I'm sorry?" Harding sat back.
    "Fraser, I would like you to talk to our department  psychologist. Would
    you be willing to do that?" "As you wish, sir.", he replied. The Mountie's
    expression was still haunting and blank, devoid of any emotion. 
    
    
    
    
    *
    
    
    
    
    He walked through the city aimlessly, eyes to the ground. Images of Ray
    were branded in his mind, so that he saw nothing else. Flames. Everything
    was on fire. He was alone. How could he have not seen it? 4 and 1/2 seconds.
    Enough time. Not enough time. Enough time to change 52 lives. Enough
    time to end Ray's life and to destroy his own. Tidings of comfort and
    joy.  And this was all there was. Life and death. The circle. Something
    must die so something else can live. A child was being born as Ray was
    dying. Death even on this day. Good will. There was so much guilt. And
    he deserved it. Every painful prickle. 
    
    
    "Are you alright, son?" Ben looked up. An elderly priest with thinning
    white hair stood over him. "Where am I?", Fraser asked absently. He sat
    on the stone steps of a church, though he could not recall actually making
    conscious decision to stop here. "St. Micheal's. Are you lost?" Fraser
    stared at the cross that hung around the old man's neck. "May I....confess?",
    he asked. The priest nodded.
    "Of course. Come in.", he said, gesturing to the large oak doors of the
    church. 
    
    
    Ben sat inside the confessional, hearing Ray's laughter echoing within
    those confining wooden walls. The window slid up open then and the old
    man said, "What sins do you have to confess, son?" Fraser took a deep
    breath, trying to block out the laughter. "I killed my partner.", he
    murmured.
    "I'm sorry?" The priest's voice was low and guarded.
    "The building....that exploded today, the Trenton building? My partner
    was in that building." For a moment the old man was silent. "I see. Did
    you know there was a bomb in that building, my son?", he asked. "No."
    "Then how did you kill your partner?"
    "I had a bad feeling.....instinct. My partner lived on instinct.......but
    I-- I have always believed in logic. I have always believed that all
    things......." Fraser sighed. "I didn't tell him. I didn't argue. I.....just
    let him go." Ben closed his eyes. Ray's face would not leave his vision,
    the laughter still rang in his ears. "I don't know how to ask for his
    forgiveness." "There is nothing to forgive. You did not kill your partner.
    It was God's will." That set of a spark in the Mountie. "God's will?",
    he asked incredulously, "It was God's will that 52 people die on Christmas
    Eve?" A veil of darkness seemed to cover him then and he could not see.
    It was too dark. He tried to stand, but hands pinned him in place. The
    priest's voice was now distant. And Ray was laughing. "---we cannot understand
    the Lord's reasons, my son. But--" Ben stumbled out of the confessional.
    He was suffocating. The pews seemed to be drawing together and walls
    were shrinking inward. He could hear the priest calling to him even as
    he made his way outside into the cold night. 
    
    
    The park. The only place he had here that reminded him of home. Ray had
    always chastised him for walking through the park alone at night. What
    did it matter now? He didn't care anymore. As he walked, the Mountie
    hoped that anyone, any killer, mugger or psycho would jump from the shadows
    and take his life. Anything to make this terrible guilt go away. In his
    mind, he repeated again and again all those things he should have said
    to his partner and never did. All those things left unsaid. "I love you,
    Ray.", he murmured into the night. He had never said that to Kowalski.
    Why? Because it wasn't manly. It would mean admitting he had emotions.
    Couldn't do that, could he? Ben sighed deeply. Ray.  Wrapped up in his
    thoughts, Fraser took no note of where he was walking and stepped on
    an icy patch near a narrow slope that led under the park bridge. He hadn't
    a split second to realize his error, before he slipped and tumbled down
    to the cold concrete below. His head struck the ground with a loud crack
    and everything went black. 
    
    
    When Ben came to he was still lying at the bottom of the slope. His head
    ached and swam when he tried to raise it. He sat up slowly and massaged
    his aching arm. The stones had torn through his uniform and there was
    a dried cut  just above the elbow. Ben picked himself and climbed back
    up the slope. He walked through the city as he had eariler, paying no
    attention to where he went, only struggling to expel the once joyful
    memories that were now only too painful. 
    
    
    When he finally looked up he found himself in front of Ray's apartment
    building. Strangely, there was a light in the window of his friend's
    apartment and a silhouette of a person moving around. Ben moved up the
    stairs clumsily, to exhausted to take caution. He stood for a moment
    at the door, listening. Soft music played inside, so familiar. He had
    started to the turn the knob, when the door suddenly flew open. Ray stood
    in front of him, fully dressed, as if he were about to go out. Ben stared
    at the blond in shock, unable to speak. This was not the case for Ray,
    however. "Where the hell have you been, Frase?", he demanded angrily.
    "I was about to go lookin' for yer. Yer said yer were going out for 10
    minutes. That was..." He looked at his watch. "four hours ago!" Ben leaned
    against the doorframe. "Y-You're---I-I saw you die." Ray's brow furrowed
    in confusion.
    "Huh?", he asked.
    "T-the building exploded and, uh.....You're alive." Kowalski took a step
    closer to the Mountie and saw the blood on the other man's uniform and
    face. "Jeez, Fraser. Somebody rough you up?" He took  his partner by
    the hand and tugged him gently inside the apartment. Ben stared his friend,
    still unable to comprehend that Ray was here with him. "Sit." The detective
    sat him down on the couch and took a seat beside him. He unbuttoned the
    tunic and slid it over Fraser's shoulders. He ran his fingers carefully
    over his partner's arms chest and head, searching out the injuries. There
    was a cut above Fraser's left elbow, another on his palm and a bruise
    that was fanning out around the area where he had hit his head, but nothing
    too serious. Kowalski sighed. "Well, yer got smacked in the head pretty
    good." Ridiculous. The last thing Fraser said to him was 'I'm going for
    a walk. I'll be back in ten minutes'. Four hours later he comes back
    looking like he called George Foreman a pansy. "Ya gonna tell me what
    happened?",he asked, still examing his friend's wounds. Ben was still
    looking at him with a haunted expression, as if seeing him for the first
    time. Truth be told, Kowalski found this particularly unnerving. "Fraser,
    what is going on?" Ben reached out, stroking Ray's face gently. The intimacy
    of the gesture was the last thing in the world Kowalski expected from
    his ususally restrained partner and it caused him to shudder. "Uh, Frase....?"
    "I fell....hit my head. I must--I must have been dreaming." Understanding.
    "You blacked out.", he guessed.
    "I had a dream. You were.....kil--died---in an explosion. I thought you
    died." Ray sighed, somewhat relieved. That explained the strange behavior.
    "It was just a freaky dream, yer freak. C'mon let's get yer cleaned up."
    He started to get up, but Ben caught his hand. Ray watched his partner
    curiously. "What's up, Ben? I'm alive,o.k?" Ben said nothing, but his
    gaze never left Ray. "Don't look at me like that, it's freakin' me out.",
    the detective said, sitting down again. Fraser looked at his partner.
    Alive. All this, that he had taken for granted. "Ray, I...." He sighed.
    Why was this so hard? In his dream, after Ray's death he would have told
    him without hesitation what he felt, how precious his partner was to
    him. But, now... "I've never told how important you are to me, have I?"
    Ray's expression of concern bordered with amusement. "Ya know, maybe
    ya hit your head alittle harder than yer thought. I should probably take
    you to the Emergency room--" "No. No. Please listen. In my dream, I didn't
    understand...I didn't realize how much I needed you until after you died.
    I don't want that to happen. You are so...precious to me, Ray. My partner,
    my brother, my best friend. I love you and I should not have been so
    ashamed to admit that." Ray looked at the Moutie, unsure what to make
    of this. There was a kind of sorrow and isolation in his friend's eyes
    he had never seen before. Whatever this dream Ben had had, he had sincerely
    believed his partner to be dead. Ray brushed the bruise on his friend's
    face with the back of his hand. "I know's hard for ya to express stuff
    like that. I understand. Ya haven't got anything to be ashamed of, partner.
    I love you, too and I know how ya feel about, o.k.? I just know.", he
    murmured, blushing with those words. He moved closer to Ben and put his
    arms around him. Fraser melted against his friend. He could hear the
    beating of the smaller man's heart and he lost himself in the comfort
    of that sound.  Kowalski felt a strong hand slide around the back of
    his neck and he turned his head so it now rested on Fraser's broad shoulder.
    "Merry Christmas, Ben.", he whispered softly. Fraser tightened his embrace.
    "Merry Christmas, Ray."
    
    The End
    
    


End file.
